Live Review: Chainsaw Hookers - Rocket Room

4 July 2012 | 5:25 pm | Mike Bowring

Dirty distortion on the guitars glided over a classic rock feel – their hard riffs constantly sounded like they wanted to erode through into melody.

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Despite the venue being close to full, the crowd seemed fairly apathetic as they gathered near the stage early. The Shakeys stepped up with a quick count in, starting with a tinny '70s sound, sing-song vocals over a near-surfer vibe style of play. By the third song they had warmed up both themselves and the crowd, shifting gear into a shorter, punk-rock bark and song length, truly hitting their best whenever the bass took the lead. Lucille were next in the mix. Built around a fast, chugging rhythm section where the lead licks still held to the background over taking any solos, they reminded this writer instrumentally of Motörhead, while the singer kept to a delivery that was part way between a shout and a scream, well in the vein of Fucked Up. Tonally the vocals didn't shift from this route for the entirety of their set, and I'll be damned if I could understand a single lyric, but everyone was there for passion over poetry and the band obliged, injecting a buzz into the crowd and becoming a favourite of the night.

The band that held the large print on the advertising came on next. Chainsaw Hookers received an anticipatory cheer and lived up to the support. Dirty distortion on the guitars glided over a classic rock feel – their hard riffs constantly sounded like they wanted to erode through into melody. With pronounced leads they entertained the crowd with a solid set list, Never Sleep Again the masthead as a sing-along crowd pleaser, satiating their dedicated fanbase. In a post-headliner gambit, Blunt Force Trauma came to the stage in front of a dilapidated crowd. Not to be deterred, they were loyal to their namesake, producing thick riffs that would dabble in a high-progression, a solid bass heartbeat, and a drum that kept a high pace low-end kick, delivering a wall of sound to concuss the body and sensibilities. As the death-scream faded, this scribe was satisfied to hear that bitter-sweet ringing that comes from a night of hard rock tunes.